“Look up more than down. See more than say. Listen more than speak. Hope more than dread. Believe more than criticize. Yes more than no. No more than maybe. Laugh more than cry. Love more than hate. See. More. See.”

Oh what we see when we finally stop looking.

I would rather wear honest tears than the most beautiful and elaborately faked smile.

Lay down your roots now, let them wrap tight around mine, sink deep in the soil.

Wherever I am, whatever I am doing, you are in it all.

I stare at your lips and fall in love with the way they form what you say.

Was I born patient or have the years of waiting taught me to be?

All we can control in this silly and wildly perfect life is the love that we choose to give out without any regard to ever getting it back in return.

I would rather hurt, and walk through the flames you leave, than never feel you.

If flowers can grow through blankets of melting snow, there is hope for me too.

Do you think it possible that some people are born to give more love than they will ever get back in return?

The morning coffee reminds me of your waking I stir to find you.

I am a sinking ship made of unsinkable parts.

I am made of more; More than tears, more than heartache, More than all of this.

I would be lying if I said there were not times that I am an earthquake contained inside this skin.

If you give me home I will give you adventure. It’s both we can have.

Find my hand in the darkness and if we cannot find the light, we will always make our own.

You’ll never find peace of mind until you listen to your heart.

You work on something for so long that you become numb to it. Like, you don’t even know how to listen to it because you listened to it so many times.

Great acting is about listening to what they are saying not waiting to deliver your lines.

I don’t like guys who don’t listen.

Radio, which was a much better medium than television will ever be, was easy and pleasant to listen to. Your mind filled automatically with images.

Two people in a conversation amount to four people talking. The four are what one person says, what he really wanted to say, what his listener heard, and what he thought he heard.

I don’t hate old men but listen when being spoken to.

Let’s go slow dancing around the kitchen, listening to the sound of dawn by the back roads and let our shadows paint the walls.